


just the bones you're made of

by bravest



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2040339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravest/pseuds/bravest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was nothing Simon could say. All he could do was stand there fixing him with an intensity he couldn't ever remember feeling before. </p><p>(Missing scene from 2.04)</p>
            </blockquote>





	just the bones you're made of

It was completely silent in the bungalow as Kieren dragged the washcloth over Simon's cheek, but the noise in Simon's head was almost deafening; a thousand voices clamouring at once that he'd found him, that he'd been there all along, that he was perfect and incredible and beautiful.

There was nothing Simon could say. All he could do was stand there fixing him with an intensity he couldn't ever remember feeling before. Taking his eyes off Kieren was unthinkable, like he might be washed away if he did, like he might disappear under his very eyes.

Kieren didn't look away, either, washing off Simon's cover up, dragging the cloth over the bridge of his nose, his chin, across his lips. Simon could almost feel a tingle down his spine, the tip of Kieren's finger dragging over his lips once, and then Kieren was done, his hand dropping away from his face.

Simon caught Kieren's wrist, gently, and took the washcloth from him. In response to Kieren's quizzical look, Simon nudged him to sit back down on the edge of the bed, and then lowered himself too, kneeling on the floor before him.

It was his turn. The lines of Kieren's shoulders were still tense and angry, his hands fisted at his thighs. He was frowning down at him, and even with all the make up on his face managed to look worn and tired and exhausted.

Simon was feeling something else entirely, only awe and admiration and a kind of reverence, which he displayed when he softly brought his fingers to Kieren's face, tilting to to the side so he could run the cloth down his cheek. Kieren let out a soft sigh, and it was so endearingly living of him, too much, that Simon's hand almost stilled. 

It was hard to believe Kieren was the one he'd been looking for and waiting for all this time. He felt  _saved_ , somehow, like all of the pieces the Prophet had been helping him put together had clicked. He believed in their quest, in the Prophet's words, but kneeling in front of the First Risen himself was something else, it was  _real;_  the First was someone he could touch, someone's whose lips were still ghosting against his own.

Carefully, he washed Kieren clean. Got rid of the layers and layers of lies, of who Kieren was trying so hard to be when he was beautiful just as he was. And Kieren let him, Kieren sat and watched him, the cloth running over his forehead and down the side of his face, his neck. Simon brought his fingers to Kieren's chin, and Kieren lifted it, exposing his neck while Simon dragged the washcloth along.

Simon swallowed hard, watching as Kieren's eyes fluttered shut. He wondered if he could feel that, a little, a ghost of a feeling along his skin, under the numbness. He wished he could make Kieren feel it, wished he could communicate how important Kieren was with soft touches and whispered praises, but he thought the words would get stuck in his throat before they were out.

Kieren's hands were slowly relaxing. Simon cupped his face, dragging his thumb along Kieren's cheek to make him look down. There was still a streak on his forehead, so he reached and gently brushed his hair aside, watched as Kieren's eyelids fluttered again at the touch, and wiped it away, as slowly as he could, just to have a little more of that: Kieren, shoulders untensing, hands uncurling, eyes closed at his touch.

Kieren let out an exhale when Simon's hand dropped and opened his eyes. They were done, now, but neither of them wanted to move. Kieren was frowning again, just sightly, looking at Simon like he was trying to understand him, trying to read him. Asking him why.

With a hand on Kieren's knee, Simon lifted himself up. He was going to stand, really, but as momentum moved him forward, Kieren met him halfway and their lips met again, sending Simon's synapses into alert. It felt like an electric shock, and now with the knowledge of who Kieren was it felt like white hot heat against his skin. Which was ridiculous, since he could barely feel it at all, mostly a memory of what a kiss felt like than anything else; no warm wet heat, but he  _swore_  it made something spark alive under his skin.

Or maybe he wanted it to that badly. 

Kieren had a gift for kissing Simon when he least expected it. He barely had time to respond before it was over. Kieren was pulling away, his eyes still on Simon's lips before moving back up.

Neither of them spoke. Simon was frozen, half standing, half crouching, mesmerized and wanting another -- and another. The quiet of the bungalow was almost oppressing at this point, and he struggled for something to say.

"Your parents are very nice," were the first words out of his mouth, and he wasn't sure the face Kieren made was one of amusement, annoyance or something else entirely. He was so composed when it came to addressing the other Redeemed, but Kieren Walker came in, kissed him, and all of that was thrown away. It made him feel like a teenager again, awkward and not quit fitting in his own skin yet.

Kieren smiled, though, pursing his lips like he was trying not to. Simon was glad his own lack of tact was amusing to Kieren, at least. 

"I should get back," Kieren said, and Simon nodded, getting up and letting go of Kieren's knee.

"I'll walk you home," he offered. Kieren stood, his hands immediately finding his coat pockets. He did that a lot, put his hands in his pockets. Simon didn't want to let him go just yet. There was so much more he wanted to find out about him.

He told himself there was time. All the time in the world, in fact.

"S'alright, I know where it is," Kieren said, shooting him a slightly exasperated look.

"I know. Let me walk with you."

Kieren looked at him and Simon stared back, unflinching. This went on for a few seconds before Kieren scoffed and turned away, and Simon allowed himself a little smirk, proud of himself to have won that not-quite argument.

"Alright."

"Alright," Simon echoed.

He left Kieren at his drive way, and although he wanted to kiss him again, he didn't.

"I'll see you later," Kieren said, and Simon nodded. He wanted to pick Kieren up and take him right back to the bungalow. He wanted to take his face into his hands and tell him he would single-handedly save them all.

He didn't.

"Have a good night, Kieren," he said. He watched Kieren walk to the front door and disappear inside, only a shadow in the gloom of their entrance way.

Then turned himself, hand reaching into his pocket for some change. His mind was filled with images of Kieren with his eyes closed, streaks of cover up wiped away by his own hand, but Simon had a very important phone call to make.


End file.
